


I've Kept This For You

by CaptainDeryn



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Mentions of Grieving, Onslaught References, Onslaught Spoilers, canon divergent (sort of), friend reunion, original dark council character, soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDeryn/pseuds/CaptainDeryn
Summary: Wren had maintained her Dark Council seat throughout the Eternal Empire's rein and all events after. She is the last standing of her original council, aside from Vowrawn. Knowing that her old friend Aramys is alive as the Alliance Commander is one thing, reunited with her in person is quite another.Reunions lead to emotional conversations and emotional offers. All of it leading to a possible fresh start.But having her old friend in front of her in the moment is both too much and enough all at once.
Relationships: Female Sith & Female Sith Inquisitor
Kudos: 1





	I've Kept This For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lumielles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumielles/gifts).



> Aramys belongs to Lumielles on tumblr. 
> 
> Just a disclaimer: my knowledge of Onslaught comes from a single youtube video. I am no expert. Don't come at me for any mistakes or canon liberties I may have taken please :P

Nothing in the Empire fell further from grace than the Dark Council. 

As many times as Wren had clashed with Darth Marr and the Council that she had joined as a fresh eyed, ambitious young Sith Lord, at least it hadn’t bled corruption and dysfunction as this new entity that had formed under Acina. 

It was amazing, truly, that Wren had not been thrown from her own seat, or perhaps forcefully evicted from it by punishment of death. Perhaps it was the virtue of her reputation that kept her safe. 

Not that virtue of reputation did anything for her fellow Councilors. The new faces around her hadn’t cared about their predecessor’s accomplishments. 

Wren swore with confidence that the only thing that kept her in her seat was the simple fact that no one wanted to head the Sphere of Military Diplomacy and Expansion under the Eternal Empire or the wartime years. 

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. 

And the crown wears heavy. 

The very topic of her sphere had earned her disproportionate attention when Arcann’s forces had staged their second attempted coup on the Empire. That was the day she had seen the members of her original Council forcibly returned to their maker. 

For a time she wished she had joined them. 

Forgotten for a few months by her fellow sith, grasped in the hands of the Eternal Empire, Wren had been toyed with worse than a manka cat with its prey. 

The Council chamber she stormed back into had been changed in its entirety. Acina had turned the Empire on its head and taken the Council with her. Puppets on a string, was what they were reduced to. 

All new faces. Except for Vowrawn. Stars forbid that man ever die. 

Once an open room with councilors set up in a semi circle, equal on level and uniform, now was a glorified throne and council room. Acina sat at the head on a raised dais, her puppets sat cascading away from her. 

Tarissma had of course informed Wren of this, among other things. She backed Wren now, standing just behind her left shoulder.

“Ah, Lord Thornley. So...interesting to see your return.” she had said and the demotion had boiled Wren’s blood. 

“That’s Darth Xin.” She had corrected icily. 

Acina had looked across her councilors, gesturing to what presumably was Wren’s position. “In your absence I was forced to fill your sphere’s head, Lord Thornley.” she explained. The pointed use of her demoted title did not escape Wren.

Wren tilted her head, narrowing her eyes, “I become incapacitated, you appoint my Second in my stead. Why is Tarissma not sitting there, hm? She’s more than earned it.” 

Before Acina had even been able to begin to justify her appointment, Wren was holding up a hand, her voice forceful, 

“Because she does not fit your cohort of loyal akk dogs,” she spat, “Acina, I want my seat back  _ now _ .” 

Acina had held up her hands, eying Wren with someone she hadn’t been able to place, “Now, now, that isn’t how the process works.” 

Enough was enough. Wren hadn’t come back broken and beaten to have everything she built ripped away from her. 

“Oh, you want proper?” she sneered, whipping around to pinpoint the thief of what was hers. Never one to play into the violence of her peers or to stoop to vicious acts, she could feel unease prickling through the force around her. Good. 

Her replacement had shrieked as he was dragged from the seat and pinned to the floor with the force. He had spluttered, air huffing from his body as she had slammed her heeled boot between his shoulders. 

“I’ve spent  _ months  _ under the torture of the Eternal Empire and revealed  _ nothing  _ of our secrets. I could have so easily ruined  _ everything  _ you’ve worked for.”

Heat had crackled down her arm, threads of lightning snapping around her fingers, “It’s  _ mine _ .” she had snarled. 

It was all a show, not that some of these new faces would know that. Vowrawn had started clapping slowly, breaking the tension into shattered fragments. 

“Very good Xin,” he had drawled. “Quite the show for you. Acina, do give her back her seat before she proves her point. We’ve had to downsize the janitorial team afterall.” 

Sitting now on the Council, Wren wasn’t sure whether her seat was worth the show. She was reduced to little more than a figurehead--Acina much preferred to deal with the Alliance herself and put her own military heads in charge of diplomacy. 

Acina had a very strong habit of not providing anything to her Council. Information, data, tasks to do. So when a meeting was on her roster for 09:00 Kaasi Time in the morning, Wren went in blind. 

Of course she had heard of the infamous Commander of the Alliance. Though her name did not follow her as much as her title did. In fact, Wren had done a double take when she had first heard the Commander’s name. Cried, more like, clutching datapad in hand. 

Because Aramys Lumielle was meant to be dead. Five or six years, six feet below ground or lost in the vacuum of space, dead to be precise when Wren had learned this information. 

Seeing the Commander burst through the doors of the Council chamber in person, however, was unlike reading a name or seeing the holos. It drove a knife into Wren’s chest and twisted violently. 

Seeing Aramys again made Wren drawn a hand over her mouth to mask the shaky breath she took. 

Aramys appeared taken aback by the new chamber, just as much as when Wren had walked back in. It didn’t stop her for more than a moment. That was Aramys, commandeering the attention of the Council when she had something she wanted to say. Wren had done the very same with her on countless action proposals. 

The meeting passed by in fragments and blurs for Wren. She could not tear her eyes from Aramys, silently taking in the reality that her dearest friend was still  _ there _ . Living, breathing, not some resurrected figment used only for publicity and morale. 

How, she did not know. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the very desperate need to talk to Aramys, rising in her like a tidal wave. 

She didn’t even know if Aramys saw her. Right now, if she did, she wasn’t acknowledged. 

Perhaps it was for the best, Wren was struggling to keep her composure enough as it was. 

Despite several years passing, Aramys did not look like time had passed by her the same. Yet there was a new way that she held herself, weight that had landed on her shoulders and seemed to threaten to crush her. 

Wren zeroed back in on the reality around her when Aramys’ voice drew her back, authoritative and cutting through the chamber: 

“The next time I come to this chamber, I will have my old seat back.” 

Anathel was spineless in Wren’s opinion, he was stupid to even fight it. Stupidity is what led to his limp body laying in the middle of the floor and his seat vacant. He could have walked away. 

Acina was furious, it almost made Wren laugh aloud to see the rigid tension in her shoulders and the hyper controlled way she spoke. Each word was too measured. 

“This is not the same Dark Council you once sat on.” Acina grit out. “Though I suppose there are small allowances that can be made for your help.” 

Wren kicked her legs over the arm of her seat, propping her chin on her fist, “I believe we should let Imperius back on, for old times sake.” she said. 

The glare that bored into the side of her head was palpable enough from Acina that Wren could practically smell her hair singeing. She was too busy absorbed in the way that Aramys pivoted to look at her and the shock on her face. 

“Some familiar faces are still here.” she said, amazed she managed to keep her voice steady when addressing her old friend. “I for one, voice for Imperius’ return.” 

“Your opinions are noted with the proper respect, Xin.” Acina spat before addressing the Commander once again, “We will discuss this in further detail, Commander. You all are dismissed.” 

Acina’s puppets cleared out fast, skirting around Anathel’s still slightly smoking form. Wren curled her nose as she strode down from her seat; he had deserved it but it was truly unsightly. 

Vowrawn cornered Aramys before she could leave, capturing her in some manner of lax conversation. His eyes darted up to Wren as she approached and he gave a slight nod to Aramys. All that Wren caught as he turned to leave was a simple, 

“I look forward to working with you again in the future.” 

And then it was just them. 

Well, them and the staff that Aramys had brought with her, hovering just outside the Council chamber. Wren saw them flitting back and forth impatiently. There were some familiar faces, but not names that stuck. 

“Do you have a moment?” Wren asked, far steadier than she believed she could manage. 

The knife twisted again when Aramys looked up at her--indeed looking  _ up  _ at her, her friend was missing the few inch heels Wren had come to know her in--dangerously threatening Wren’s composure. Being  _ here  _ and being here across the room were apparently two far different things right now. 

“For you? Of course.” Aramys said as if that didn’t break the steady ground of Wren’s world from beneath her and send her plummeting. “For the rest of that Council, not in the slightest.” 

“They’re horrible.” Wren said breathily, trying to remember how to breath around the growing tightness in her throat. “Acina was not lying when she said it was not the same Council you left behind.” 

_ Left behind _ . The words felt too pointed, struck Wren like a blow while they barely seemed to phase Aramys. 

An uncertain quiet passed between them, Aramys’ eyes wandering over Wren in the same way Wren had studied her in the center of the Council chamber, trying to piece together that they were both grounded in reality. 

“I’ve kept your plants alive.” Wren said suddenly, shakily. It felt of paramount importance to inform her of this. What was Aramys to do--load them on her ship and tote them back?

“They’re in my office now but...they’ll all mostly still alive.” She had cried over those she hadn’t been able to keep alive. Violent, miserable sobs over wilting plants. It would have been truly embarrassing if Wren could write of the true and vicious pain it had caused her. 

Aramys’ eyes widened. Then a smile graced her face, as small a smile as it was, and Wren felt she had been gifted a rare gift, “That was an entire office full--perhaps a jungle’s worth. That’s quite the endeavor to take on--just for me…?” 

“Just for you.” Wren said distractedly before catching herself, a violent heat flaring in her neck and cheeks. She scrambled to brush it off, her joking tone falling further than flat. It might as well have plummeted from the edge of the Citadel tower:

“And besides, the Garden Quarter wouldn’t take all of them.” 

Concern spread between them through the force, an achingly familiar connection in the Force that had gone unused for years. Wren hadn’t felt it stir since what she learned were the events on Marr’s ship had severed it. 

Aramys reached out, laying her hand over Wren’s. “Are you alright?” she asked. Then added with a little laugh, “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost--thought that was reserved for me.” 

It was too much. Wren laced their fingers together for a brief moment before letting go and tucking her hand close to her. Her world was shifting and crumbling around her, the loss she had convinced herself of over the last several years completely going up in smoke. 

She drew in a ragged breath. Tears were dangerously close to falling, she could feel them gathering on her lashes, “I thought you were dead.” 

Right in front of her part of Aramys crumbled too, “I know. If I had known--” 

“ _ No _ .” Wren cut her off. “I don’t want that. One year or seven years doesn’t change the fact that I mourned for you as a close friend.” 

Another piece of Aramys’ expression crumbled with a soft, “Oh, Wren.” before Wren was being wrapped in a hug that almost made her knees go out from beneath her. Her refusal to fall in front of the Alliance members was all that kept her knees locked. 

In the embrace Wren gifted herself a single soft sob. “I’m just glad to see you’re alive.” 

“And I you.” Aramys mumbled into Wren’s shoulder, muffled by the downy fabric of her robes, “And that you’ve held your ground well these last few years.” 

Something was processing in Aramys’ mind because her hands tightened in Wren’s robes, catching the long ends of Wren’s hair before she released. Pulling back, she looked up at Wren with large, dark eyes. 

“Would you consider coming back to Odessen? Joining the Alliance?” she asked. 

Wren blinked, taken aback by the question long enough that Aramys scrambled to amend herself: 

“I know that you’ve built a lot here. You have your Council seat and if you don’t wish to give that up--” 

“Aramys,” She interrupted, smiling carefully at her old friend. “I would need to consider it. But I have nothing tying me here.” 

Her friend’s eyes jumped down to Wren’s hand, where there once had sat an expensive statement of her ties to an old Sith family. 

“That’s void. I have nothing here.” Wren explained before the question could be asked. 

“ _ Oh _ .” Aramys said smally. Her hand was still resting on Wren’s arm, gripping her sleeve. “But will you consider it? I-I could really use a friend there.” 

So much more had happened than Wren could know right now, she could see that in the growing cracks in Aramys’ expression. Her heart ached and she knew that the only consideration she would be doing was how to step away from the Council and disperse of her Kaasi belongings. 

“I will.” she assured and it seemed to soothe Aramys. 

“Then for now can we at least go to my plants.” her friend asked, a note of careful pleading in her words. “I’d like to see how you took care of them.” 

Wren laughed softly. “You may be sorely disappointed, but we may.” she extended her arm to Aramys, an old courtesy she had always offered her fellow Dark Council member, “Shall we?” 


End file.
